By now Cao Pi has grasped the basics, so placing an offering is a conscious choice. He can't help his natural curiosity, especially about people he's met and spent time with. After their brief adventure in the woods, he feels like it's only right that he and the commander share their experiences. This is genuinely much easier than talking.
At least, that was his train of thought prior to placing the scrap of paper with a line of poetry scribble in Chinese. He's never felt the impact of bullets into flesh before, just a few pings off his armor, but the sense of bleeding out in the snow...how very real. The sense of desperation, the quietly simmering feeling of love for someone who means something, even more real. So when he snaps out of it, his flippant decision becomes firmly cemented into something he needs to take seriously. For now, though, he simply remains there in the glade, thinking, while crouched before the cross. When Rosinante comes around, he'll still be there, pencil and paper in one hand, presently blank while he grapples to shape his thoughts into ideograms that would tumble together into perfect poetry.
no subject
At least, that was his train of thought prior to placing the scrap of paper with a line of poetry scribble in Chinese. He's never felt the impact of bullets into flesh before, just a few pings off his armor, but the sense of bleeding out in the snow...how very real. The sense of desperation, the quietly simmering feeling of love for someone who means something, even more real. So when he snaps out of it, his flippant decision becomes firmly cemented into something he needs to take seriously. For now, though, he simply remains there in the glade, thinking, while crouched before the cross. When Rosinante comes around, he'll still be there, pencil and paper in one hand, presently blank while he grapples to shape his thoughts into ideograms that would tumble together into perfect poetry.